


A Very Merry Unbirthday

by Ardatli



Category: Young Avengers
Genre: Background nohmmy, Domestic Fluff, Gen, Tommy never quite learned to bake, but that's not going to stop him from trying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 20:52:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ardatli/pseuds/Ardatli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The smell of mistreated sugar only got stronger when he pushed open the door to the fourth floor, and scorched cocoa hit Billy in the face like a wall when he opened the door to their apartment. </p><p>“It’sallgoodIgotitundercontrol,” Tommy yelped as he slid by in a gust of wind and smoke, and it took Billy longer to parse out the individual words than it did to survey the damage. </p><p>Something had exploded in the kitchen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very Merry Unbirthday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maelikki](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Maelikki).



> A birthday fic for Maelikki! This is about the closest I can get to writing Nohmmy, darlingest, but I hope it's okay.

“Do you smell something burning?” Teddy asked, his brow furrowed with concern. It was hardly a new thing; the back stairs of their crummy old apartment building always smelled like _something._ Half the time it was nice, like the curry that wafted out of Mrs. Indira’s kitchen, or the thick onion-and-garlic from three floors up that smelled like something Billy’s bubbe used to make. The other half the time, wet dog came through like nothing else, which itself was better than the faint and undeniable scent of urine. It was cheap and kind of gross, but on the other hand, it was the kind of thing three students could actually afford and manage to stay even halfway close to the city.

Today, though, Teddy was right. The smell of mistreated sugar only got stronger when he pushed open the door to the fourth floor, and scorched cocoa hit Billy in the face like a wall when he opened the door to their apartment.

“It’sallgoodIgotitundercontrol,” Tommy yelped as he slid by in a gust of wind and smoke, and it took Billy longer to parse out the individual words than it did to survey the damage.

Something had exploded in the kitchen. Three cookbooks sat open on the dinged-up formica table, pages covered in spots of grease and piles of white powder that had better be flour. The counter had been clean when he and Teddy had left for class that morning, and was now smeared with brown goop, and piled high with bowls. Eggshells liberally littered the top of the stove.

“Woah,” Teddy breathed out behind Billy’s ear. “Even for Tommy, that’s impressive.”

A door slammed downstairs, and Billy peeked out the kitchen window into the courtyard below. A tendril of smoke curled up from the cake pans that had been dumped into the fountain in the middle, the puddle of stagnant water in the bottom turning slowly black and brown.

A door blew again and Tommy slumped into a chair at the table, his head in his hands. “Don’t say anything,” he ordered, an instruction, naturally, that Billy and Teddy were honor-bound to ignore.

“I was gonna start with ‘what,’” Teddy said conversationally, spinning one of the chairs around and dropping down to straddle it, his arms folded across the back. “But I’m going to jump straight to ‘why.’ Because now I’m curious.”

Tommy lifted his lip in a defiant curl. “A guy can’t try to cook without getting the Spanish freaking Inquisition?”

“No-one expects the Spanish Inquisition,” Teddy supplied helpfully. Billy snorted.

“A guy can,” Billy added instead, leaning in to rest his chin on Teddy’s head and his arms across the breadth of Teddy’s shoulders. Teddy shifted a little to give him better access, and Tommy rolled his eyes. “You can’t. Spill it.” He spun one of the cookbooks around. “Double chocolate decadence? This is advanced level stuff,” he joked with a wicked grin. “Dad tried to make that once for mom’s birthday and almost burned the... house...” The pieces fell into place and Billy jerked his head up as Teddy’s eyebrows climbed. “It’s not Kate’s birthday,” Billy said, suspicion mounting.

“It’s not mine,” Teddy added, just to be a jerk. He glanced back over his shoulder at Billy. “And you’d know if it was yours. Does Noh-Varr even have a birthday?”

Tommy turned red, redder than Billy had ever seen him before, and that meant jackpot. “Not everyone has their birthday programmed into everybody’s cell phones,” Tommy snarled at them, cheeks still flushed and aiming a death glare at Billy.

“To be fair,” Teddy objected, “that’s only because you helped him steal them.”

“Anyway, someone’s got to remember,” Tommy mumbled, rubbing his forehead with two fingers, his back and shoulders stiff and tense. “Even if the day’s wrong, it’s better than being forgotten.”

That... yeah. There was a whole lot more there than Tommy having weirdness about his first Big Gay Crush, and Billy dug a thumb into Teddy’s shoulder. Teddy glanced up and didn’t even need to ask what he was thinking, just nodded with a small and private smile.

“So that’s the ‘why,’” Billy redirected the conversation, his mind racing. “What happened to the ceiling?”

“The beaters were going too slow.”

“Yeah, I thought we’d learned that lesson?”

“Apparently not,” Teddy said gently.

“And the smoke?”

“Oven was too slow.”

“You know that turning the heat up doesn’t make things cook faster.”

“Technically, it does.”

“Fine,” Billy amended with a grin. “It doesn’t make things cook faster-better. It’s definitely faster-wronger.”

Tommy rolled his eyes so far back into his head that there was a decent chance they’d get stuck there. “Wronger’s not a word, dumbass.”

“Dumbass isn’t technically a word either,” Teddy pointed out, just to keep the sides even.

Something sparked inside the oven, followed by a muffled [boom].

“So,” Teddy continued, barely missing a beat. “Since cake’s off the menu, what’s your plan B?”

“Like I need one?” Tommy scoffed, but his eyes told a different story.

“Okay,” Billy thought out loud. “Best dates in NYC. Central Park? Or I know – a burlesque show.”

“It’s not a date,” Tommy objected loudly, and Billy ignored him.

“Dinner out,” Teddy said firmly. “Dinner and dancing.”

Tommy slouched down in his chair and slid his hands down his face in exaggerated exasperation. ”Greeaaaaaaat,” he dragged out, dramatic and slow. “Relationship advice from Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum. Just what I need to make my day better.”

Teddy’s shoulders shook. “Ooh, the R-word.” He reached up without looking to ruffle Billy’s hair, grinning. “Must be serious.”

“I’ve always thought of you as more of a Mad Hatter,” Billy mused aloud.

Tommy toppled forward and rested his forehead on the table, oblivious to the puddle of drying cake batter. “I hate you,” he said, muffled by his arms.

“No you don’t,” Billy replied. “You love us.”

“Go away.”

“Welcome,” Billy advised sagely, “to life with brothers.”

The groan that sounded from beneath Tommy’s arms sounded suspiciously like ‘fuck you,’ but Billy didn’t call him on it. Instead, he dug out his phone and scrolled through to find the number he wanted. “Right. I’ll call Kate; if anyone can get a reservation at a decent place at the last minute, it’s her. We’ll take care of the kitchen, and you, dork, yeah, you-“ he added, when Tommy lifted his head to give him a baleful glare, “go shower and get the chocolate out of your hair.”

Tommy eyed them both suspiciously. “Why are you doing this?”

“To get you out of the house for the night, what do you think?” Teddy replied, but he was laughing and his eyes were soft and kind.

Billy reached across the table and poked Tommy firmly in the upper arm. “Because that’s the other half of living with brothers,” he said. Teddy squeezed his other hand, hard, under the table. “Now go, stupid,” Billy poked him again and Tommy pretended to snap a bite at his fingers. “Romance waits for no man.”

Tommy growled at him again, but the seat was empty and the bathroom door slamming within seconds.

Teddy counted three beats off on his fingers, then cupped his hands to his mouth. “There are condoms in the medicine cabinet if you need some,” he called out in a sing-song voice.

 “Be safe, honey!” Billy added in a falsetto that really didn’t resemble his mother at all, and Teddy’s peals of laughter started him going.

The bathroom door opened, an inventive string of curses in what sounded a whole lot like Kree spilled out, and then the door slammed again. The water started running.

Billy thumbed the dial button on his phone, and Teddy stood to grab a cloth and start wiping down the spattered cabinets. “Did you ever figure-“ Teddy began to ask.

“Nope,” Billy finished his sentence for him. “But you have to admit,” Billy pitched his voice loud enough to be heard over the running water, “it’s pretty cute.”

The sharpie moustache took about a week to scrub off of Billy’s face. The smile on Tommy’s lasted a whole lot longer.

 


End file.
